Oh, We Tell Her the Truth
Quickly spraying my favourite perfume on my neck and wrists, I glanced at the mirror, wondering whether it was insane to even think about let alone agree to hook up with Miles.
“Yeah, you are definitely nuts,” I breathed, yet there was a hint of thrill present in my voice.
Wrapped in a towel, I started rummaging through my wardrobe in the hope of finding a nice outfit to wear.
Something that was not very casual, but also nothing sultry that whispered, ‘I wore this just imagining you taking it off.’ “God!” I muttered nervously. “Was this all one big mistake?”
Suddenly my gaze landed on a dress I had on yesterday. Cute and simple. “Okay, this could work.” I let the thought slip through my lips. “And it wouldn’t look like I actually spent much effort,” I mumbled with a quick eye roll, “dressing up just for him.” Even if I did.
I glanced at the watch. Miles was probably waiting for me in his car, engine revving. “Alright,” I breathed, “let’s do it.”
I hurried down the stairs then froze, my foot hovering in mid-air. My mother’s sharp voice echoed through the hall. Hmm, I bent over the railing, trying to steal a peek at who she was talking to.
There he was. Miles, hands buried deep into his pockets, legs crossed, standing right beside her.
Another loose shirt, sleeves rolled just below his elbows.
Careful, Florence, gawking like this was not going to get you laid—especially if you accidentally fell over the banister and broke your leg.
So I was going to slip past, but then what about Miles?
Whatever plans this night held for us kind of required him to not be chatting up my mother. Ugh!
Fishing out my mobile from my purse, I quickly dialled our home number. The phone rang a moment later.
“Oh, I wonder who that might be?” my mother said, her small steps echoing in the hall. “Hello? Elizabeth speaking…hello?”
“Psst!” I made a quiet sound.
Miles frowned, as if wondering whether he had indeed heard something, then glanced behind his shoulder. “Florence?”
“Shh!” I mouthed, motioning at him to come my way. “Let’s go!”
“Hello? Hellooo? What’s wrong with this bloody thing?” My mother’s voice grew with frustration. “If this is some sort of prank, you hear me? Let me tell you, it’s not very funny!”
“Florence Grant, please don’t tell me you actually called the house?” Miles muttered as we quietly snuck out the door.
“Well…you are very welcome.”
Both of us clasped the car door handles and I caught his eyes on me across the roof of the car.
“What?” I paused, staring at him.
Miles shook his head disapprovingly, a playful smirk touching his lips. “This wasn’t very daughterly of you, was it?”
“Shall we?” I raised an eyebrow, adding with a tease, “Or would you rather go back?”
The moment we were inside, Miles turned the key to start the engine. With a quick glance in the side mirror, the image of my parents’ house shrinking behind us, we were off to the unknown.
***
The drive was quiet, both of us awkwardly staring at the road ahead. Or maybe that was just me. With each passing second, my palms dampened as I kept gliding them up and down my knees. A long, deep sigh escaped, quickly replaced by a shallow inhale.
What if this was a mistake? Suddenly, it felt like it might be.
Miles cleared his throat, snatching all my attention back to him. “You good?” he asked.
“Um,” I turned to him. “Yeah,” I breathed. “You?”
“You seem tense.”
Fuck yeah . I had no bloody clue what I was doing, what this whole thing was, where we were going, or how to act normal.
Act normal. Act normal.
“Do I?” A soft chuckle came from me—or was it just a short, nervous laugh?
“Well, yeah.” He furrowed his brow, focusing his gaze on the road but stealing glances at me. Then he hummed.
“What?” I muttered.
“You are nervous.”
“No,” I blurted out, “I’m fine.”
Miles hummed again, then glanced at the rearview mirror, slowing down to let another car overtake us. The moment it passed, he pulled over, parking at the side of the road.
“What are you doing?” The words burst from me.
Miles turned the engine off and shifted in his seat, his eyes momentarily narrowing at me. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you nervous?”
“I’m not!”
“Florence?” He stared at me.
“I’m not, I swear.”
“Is it because of what happened back at the house? Look, if I upset you or if this is not what you want…”
This .
“Well, that’s the thing,” I said, shaking my shoulders with a quick chuckle. “I have no idea what this even is.”
“Neither do I. What do you think that I go around inviting every other girl into my bed?”
“Well, no! But…what about Chantelle?” I asked, immediately regretting the question.
“Wait! What?” He glanced at me, confused. “What about her?”
“I don’t know…um…maybe she is someone you are interested in…to, you know?”
“Hmm…” Miles paused, his eyebrow raised, his gaze carefully studying me. “Look at you,” he said with that dangerous smugness on his face, “jealous already after just one kiss?”
“What? Pfft! I’m not jealous!” I blurted out, a ridiculously terrified frown creasing my forehead. “Please! Why would I be jealous?”
“Florence?” He smiled.
“I was just making sure that—”
“Florence?”
“I’m not getting in the middle of something—”
“Florence?”
Suddenly, I was at a loss for words. “Um…what?”
“You done?”
“…Yeah.”
Holding my gaze, his pale grey eyes slowly crinkled at the corners. “I’m not interested in Chantelle. In case you were wondering.”
“Oh, well,” I trailed off, feigning a stoic expression, “that’s really not my business…”
“Tell you what—” He tilted his head, his voice huskier than usual. “If you feel uncomfortable, we can just forget the whole thing. No pressure. God, I mean, I’d rather you not.” His words made a soft chuckle escape me. “But if you do, it’s absolutely fine. Okay?”
“Um.” I nodded. “Yeah…”
“I’d probably bite my knuckles, but I’d live.”
“Stop it!” I laughed again, rolling my eyes at him.
“Or,” he drawled, his brow arching playfully, “we could see how the night goes, keep our options open, and if we feel like…” He paused, his eyes roaming over me, taking in the flush that crept up my neck.
“Like…?” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.
His gaze held mine for a beat longer, then a slow smile spread across his face. Miles leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing my ear. “Like…the exact thing we had in mind…”
***
We drove around the town, listening to the music and just talking, conversation flowing its most natural course. At times I thought that’s why he kept going, because it didn’t feel forced, it simply felt normal and neither of us was willing to give that up.
“Do you miss driving?” he suddenly asked.
“Um…yeah,” I said, glancing in his direction.
His eyes focused, looking ahead, his long fingers curled around the steering wheel, thumbs playing rhythmically to the soft hum of the radio, his shoulders relaxed against the seat.
“You know, before the accident, I would often just set the destination and hit the road, be there with my own thoughts.”
“You still can do that.”
“Well, I hope that one day I can.”
Miles quickly turned his face to me. “Promise me something?” he asked before looking away.
“What would that be?”
“That you won’t stop trying. In fact,” he suddenly mused, then swiftly changed the line to turn the car back, “how about now?” He glanced at me again, a slow smile touching his lips.
“Now?!” I nearly yelped. “But…” Well, first of all, that wasn’t our plan at all, and second, I was terrified.
***
“Come on, Florence, add some gas,” he teased.
“Because you want me to crash your car?” I muttered, hands clenched tightly, gripping the leather fabric of the wheel.
“You aren’t being any fun,” he mumbled, unimpressed, reaching for the box of cigarettes in his pocket, deftly picking one out with his fingers.
“Please, put that away.”
“I wasn’t gonna smoke in the car.”
“Miles,” I warned, eyes focused ahead of us as I navigated the labyrinth of the abandoned car park. “Put that in your mouth and you won’t get any closer to mine.”
“Hmm…it’s kinda hot.”
“What is?” Confused, I glanced at him, noticing a smirk grazing his lips.
“When you are bossing me around like that.”
“Bossing you around?” I suddenly burst into a chuckle. “I’m not bossing you around. I’m just…saying.”
“Yeah! God, can you say that again? It really turns me on.”
“Oh, absolutely not!” I laughed.
***
“Wow, this was nice,” I breathed when I finally stopped the car. “Thank you,” I whispered, my eyes slowly travelling to his.
Miles only smiled. His gaze shifted down to where he reached for my hand, his long fingers gently entwined with mine. Then he said, “You did well.”
“Yeah,” I managed along with a deep, shaky exhale.
“Does your mother expect us for dinner?” Miles asked, his eyes registering the time on his watch.
“You know she does.”
The corner of his lip twitched. “Right. 6PM. Sharp.”
“And not a minute later.”
“Hmm,” he mused, fingers running through the strands of his hair. “We need a plan.”
“Huh? Alright then, what do you have in mind?”
“What if…my tire…decided today was the perfect day to get flat?” he suggested, a sly grin plastered across his face.
Picturing the whole thing, and the fact that we might actually need to cut it loose for some solid proof. That’s a little too much! So, nah, thanks!
“You know she is going to send a car for you. And then, what about me?”
“Hmm. How about…I suddenly collapse? You’d have to rush me to the hospital!”
“Like a heart attack? Or just faint?”
“Does it matter?”
“Well, yeah. It kind of does. And why me, anyway?”
“Seriously? Aren’t you a paramedic?”
“No, I mean, what was I doing with you ?”
“Right! Well…what about…ugh, shit!” Miles shook his shoulders with a sigh.
“It has to be a good one.”
“Yeah! Unless…” He paused, his gaze narrowing at me.
“Unless what?”
“We tell her the truth.”
“Yeah, right!” I rolled my eyes with a soft chuckle.
“I’m serious.”
“Miles…” I began.
“No.” He shook his head. “This is actually a good plan. Her plan, really.”
“And what do you suggest we tell her?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Something she’d buy. We were browsing at the vinyl shop, lost track of time, and before we knew it, it was almost six, so I suggested we grab dinner at…” Miles trailed off, a slow smirk twisting his lips into a hopeful, smug expression as he looked at me.
I bit the corner of my mouth, then smiled. “The most romantic restaurant in town?”
“Exactly!” He beamed.
“Well,” I laughed. “That might actually work.”
It was bound to.
And of course, it did.